It Starts With One
by SugarMutantNinjaHamsterGirl
Summary: It started when Marcus had one drink. Then two, and maybe three. It started with one kiss. One kiss that a drunk Marcus had given Pansy. It started with one theory. That maybe Marcus liked Pansy. It started with one chance; the one chance Pansy gave him.


**A/N: Holy turd, guys. It's been forever. I've recently fallen in love with this pairing, but I can never find any good fanfiction for it...So I decided to try my hand at it. It didn't turn out very well, or at least like I wanted. This chapter is short. Anyways, it'll likely get better as it goes on.**

**Series: Harry Potter  
Genre: Romance/Friendship  
Rated: T (may or may not go up)  
Pairing: Pansy/Marcus  
Desription: **_It started when Marcus had one drink. Then two, and maybe three. It started with one kiss. One kiss that a drunk Marcus had given Pansy. It started with one theory. That maybe Marcus liked Pansy. It started with one chance; the one chance Pansy gave him._

**I own nothing.  
**

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"Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin!" The audience of the quidditch game chanted. Well, the Slytherin audience did, anyways.

Pansy Parkinson sat scowling as she watched Wood block another attempt at scoring by Marcus Flint. They were down by thirty points, though they had been playing a good game. In the next hour, Gryffindor was up another ten points, but it didn't matter. Slytherin's seeker had caught the snitch, winning their house the game.

All over, Slytherin's were clapping each other on the back, raving about the game. It was always like this when Slytherin won against Gryffindor, because truth be told, though Pansy didn't like to admit it, it was a very rare occasion.

Pansy silently followed her excited house mates back to the common room, where she found a comfortable arm chair. She looked around,watching her fellow Slytherins have at it. Everyone was in a party mood tonight. Some of the people she saw were her friends, while others were just familiar faces. Almost everyone was drinking. Pansy wrinkled her nose in disgust and decided to head up to her dorm.

As she was about to get up to leave, a hand found it's way across her wrist. She looked up, shocked to see the brown eyes of Marcus Flint staring back at her. He flashed a cocky grin as he pulled her up, an arm snaking around her waist and pressing firmly against her back to keep her from going anywhere. "Wassrong?" He slurred, obviously drunk. Even if he had been speaking normally, Pansy would have been able to tell by his breath.

"You're aren't joinin' in.." He said.

"Nothing is wrong." Pansy said in a clipped voice. "Maybe I don't like parties." Twisting her wrist to get free, she realized it was no use. His grip only tightened.

"Why not live a little, babe?" She heard him say. She wasn't sure if she was blushing or scowling, or even both, but she had no time to figure it out before she felt lips crash on hers, moving quickly against her own.

She felt Marcus' hot breath on her lips, and her head spinning, and tasted the alcohol he'd passed on to her. She stood for a moment in confusion and shock, not doing anything. Finally she realized what was happening and just as soon as she'd figured it out her hand drew back, and- SMACK!

She slapped him hard across the face, sending him stumbling backwards. When he looked back up at her, he looked surprised and confused, but there was something else. It looked almost like he'd been hurt by Pansy's actions.

That was impossible, though, Pansy reminded herself, because Marcus Flint is a stupid vile git, and he doesn't get hurt by anything but bludgers. Pansy had once heard that drunken eyes hold no secrets. They showed who a person really was on the inside. However, this time it couldn't be true, because there was absolutely no way in hell she had hurt Marcus Flint.

She turned on her heel and headed up to her dorm, the scene that had just taken place never once leaving her mind. As she climbed into bed, she realized that she wouldn't be getting much sleep that night. She had only just left him down in the common room and already his words were repeating in her head.

"Why not live a little, babe?"

Tonight would be a long night.

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**I'm disappointed it's so short. The next one will be longer, promise.**


End file.
